


Red

by dreamcp



Series: KlanceWeek2k16 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Injury, M/M, idk if its really that graphic but i wanna be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcp/pseuds/dreamcp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation in what could be the last moments of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> This is Day 1 of KlanceWeek2k16 on tumblr. The prompt was red/blue, and I chose red. This was a big jump from the fluffy stuff that I usually write, but I enjoyed doing it. Thanks for reading!

Lance pants as he ducks back behind the doorframe. His entire body is exhausted, he feels like he’s about to collapse. Every Galra he shoots down is replaced by two more, and there’s no end in sight.

The comms are down. They’ve got no backup. Keith is slumped against the corridor wall opposite him. He’s barely moving. Lance’s right arm has gone numb and it’s all he can do to keep firing. His legs struggle to support him, and there's a deep cut running horizontally across his side. There’s blood on the floor– lots of it. Lance can’t tell whose it is anymore.

A laser bounces off the wall just next to his head, and Lance shies away from the sudden heat. His breathing gets heavier, more labored. When had it all gone to shit?

There’s no time to ponder that question. The Galra just keep coming, and Lance has no choice but to defend the hall where they’ve been cornered. The enemy is taking no prisoners today.

Lance fires more shots, but his aim is getting poor. One manages to hit its mark, but the others do little more than aggravate the Galra. He can’t keep this up for much longer, not all on his own.

He throws a glance at Keith again. He’s in bad shape. There’s a wound on his head and his torso’s bleeding out heavily. Scratches cover his exposed skin. He’s motionless save for the occasional twitch of a hand.

Lance is about to call it quits. He can’t feel his arm and his head feels dangerously light. Another minute of heavy fire and they’ll be dead. It’s not a happy thought.

But by some miracle, the doors on both ends of the corridor suddenly slam closed. Lance can hear the Galra on the other side shouting, and soon they begin banging on the door. Could Pidge have been behind this? Lance can only hope.

He drops to his knees, then collapses against the wall. God, he’s so tired. Everything hurts. Blood runs down his side and onto the ground, and his eyes follow its path. That’s not good.

Keith murmurs something opposite him. Lance slowly turns to look at him; everything hurts.

“Gonna have to speak up, pal,” Lance heaves. He winces at how weak his voice sounds. Keith doesn’t reply, presumably unconscious again. That’s dangerous.

“Keith, hey Keith,” Lance tries. “Hey, look at me.”

After a long pause, Keith’s eyes flutter open. He meets Lance’s eyes, and God, he looks like hell. They both do.

“I need you to stay with me, okay?”

“S’hard,” Keith groans.

“I know man, I know,” replies Lance, and his heart feels like it's breaking. At least Keith is awake. He needs to keep the other paladin talking though, or he’ll drift off again. “Okay. Tell you what, when we get outta here I’m not gonna argue with you for a whole week. But you gotta stay awake for me, got it?”

Keith huffs. It’s not an answer, but at least he’s listening. Lance continues, his mind drifting from place to place: “And I’ll train more. You could use a partner when you’re sparring, I bet. Sound good? Oh, and I’m gonna find alien booze. I bet that’d be wild. Don’t tell Shiro that, though.”

He’s too tired to think of anything else, so he falls quiet. Minutes pass and neither of them move. Lance can feel himself getting sleepy, and he fights desperately to avoid it. Keith finally breaks the silence.

“If we get out of here,” Keith starts. Lance really doesn’t like the emphasis he puts on that if. Keith licks his lips and tries again. “If we get out, you gotta let me try that booze.”

Lance snickers, though he's concerned that Keith might be delirious. “Y’know what, fine. I’m willing to share. Better yet, let’s find a bar someplace.”

“You just want to flirt,” Keith accuses. There’s no real venom there, they're both too tired to really pick a fight.

“I’m gonna pick up so many alien chicks,” agrees Lance. Keith hesitates in his reply, Lance can see it; his eyes are shifting between Lance and the floor, his mouth opening and closing. The noises from the other side of the door have disappeared now. It’s just the two of them, it seems.

“If we get out of here, I’m going to come out.”

Lance blinks. That’s not at all what he expected. Not that he expected anything to begin with, but Keith has managed to catch him off guard anyways. Keith’s eyes are closed now. Whether that’s from pain or embarrassment, Lance can’t tell.

Keith is gay. Or something. Lance himself is pansexual, as far as he knows, and he’s at peace with it. It’s just not something he’s felt was necessary to share, seeing as he preferred the ladies anyway. But Keith has always been a mystery in almost everything. Telling Lance this must have been difficult, because this is _incredibly_ personal. Then again, they’re both about to die. May as well put it all out in the open.

“If we get out of here, I’ll come out too,” Lance declares. It’s harder to think straight now. His brain is becoming filled with fog. But it’s worth it to see Keith’s eyes reopen and stare at him. Silence falls over them again.

“...We could do it together,” Keith manages. Lance smiles a bit at that.

“They’re gonna think we’re dating or something.”

“Heh, you say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Nah, not at all,” Lance says. He’s not even sure of what’s coming out of his mouth, but none of it seems wrong. “I could see it working. We don’t even have big fights anymore.”

Keith hums quietly. His eyes slide closed again. His breathing doesn’t seem as strong as before. Lance begins to panic and desperately wishes for a miracle.

“We could do dates on alien planets. That’d be cool, I bet. And we could train together more, and lay down together when we’re tired or something. Haven’t done that with someone in ages, you know. And we could–” Lance’s voice gives out then. He can’t stay conscious much longer. Keith is already out. His chest is barely moving.

Slowly, painfully, Lance crawls over to Keith. It's agonizing, his side is begging him for mercy and his arms are shaking. He slumps against the red paladin and breathes heavily. His fingers fumble over Keith’s hand; there’s a pulse, but it’s very faint. Lance tangles their hands together. They’re gonna die far, far away from home, but at least they’re not alone.

It’s not as comforting as Lance hopes. His family might already think him dead, but until now Lance still had the chance of going back someday. Dead people don’t get that chance, especially if they’re millions of light years away from home.

Lance grips Keith’s hand tighter. It’s not like he can feel it anyway. Keith’s soft breaths are the only indication that he’s still alive. Lance uses all his strength to lean towards him, and places a light kiss to Keith’s forehead. There. It’s official. Although, Keith never really gave him an answer. Then again, Lance never really asked the question.

He can’t put it off any longer. Lance’s eyelids droop lower and lower. The last thing he sees before it all fades to black is the sight of their intertwined hands, resting in a pool of their own blood and covered in red. 

He thinks he hears his name before he drifts off. He believes for a moment that it’s Keith, but the voice sounds too different. Then everything fades away.


End file.
